


The First Breakfast

by AnnaVarg



Series: The Phoenix and the Griffon [2]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 23:43:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaVarg/pseuds/AnnaVarg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Follows "Sleeping Cats Lie". After his adventure as a cat (with no thumbs), Quinn invites Anders for some honeycakes, fumbly affection and promises of more to come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Breakfast

Out of all the possible outcomes of his transformation spell experiment, Quinn Hawke had never considered _this_. He had fallen asleep with thick fur and four paws, purring happily, and woken up without a stitch on in a narrow little cot in Darktown. As much of a shock as it was to have his own form back, it shook him even more to see Anders, half-naked and staring at him. It hadn't been entirely appropriate, to join Anders in his bed when the other mage had had no idea who he was. Taking advantage of his hospitality hadn't been what Quinn had intended, but where else was he to go as a cat with no feline survival skills? Not to mention that Anders was a master at belly rubs. Curse his weakness for belly rubs and snuggling.  
  
Or bless it, because everything had quite fallen into place in the end. Now Anders's lips were pressed against his, well, not his lips precisely but his _mouth_. Quinn's lower lip was caught snugly between Anders's teeth and lip, and that was a perfect place for it, he was quickly finding out. He cautiously wound his arms around Anders. His reward was a happy, low noise, and then Anders was so close he warmed Quinn through and through. Quinn wondered if there was a place for his hands that wouldn't be considered too forward, but Anders was shirtless and he was naked, so it wasn't likely.   
  
He was naked. That thought made his hands tremble. Dragons hardly intimidated him, because he knew they could be beaten with the right strategy and teamwork, but physical intimacy made him flounder. There was nothing wrong with it, in his opinion - it just tended to happen to other people. It certainly wasn't about personal space. Hugs were wonderful things, whenever he could get them, and he had entirely spoiled his mabari hound, letting him sleep snuggled to this side. But anything done without clothes on, that was intimidating and he couldn't help but feel that he had missed a crucial step here, somehow; sweet and tentative first kisses weren't supposed to happen when they were both more or less naked, were they? No, he was fairly sure there was no precedent to this in literature. It left him feeling very vulnerable, and a little lost, but Anders seemed to know what he was doing. He did trust Anders with his life. That included the time spent without wearing so much as a sock.  
  
Anders pulled back just enough to draw breath, and it reminded Quinn to do the same. He had a perfectly functioning nose, but for some reason it hadn't occurred him to breathe through it when Anders had claimed his mouth. He sniffed, and lamented the loss of keener senses: having spent all evening and night as a cat, surrounded by awareness of Anders in a wholly new way, it was difficult to settle for the human experience.  
  
His fumbling hands finally found good places to hold on to, on Anders's lower and upper back. There were well-healed scars criss-crossing Anders's skin; he had noticed them before when Anders had peeled off his shirt. Quinn ran the tip of his thumb down one, wondering what could have left it - surely not a knife? Perhaps he'd find a tactful way to ask about it later. He was still getting used to having his thumbs back. Well, that was one obvious improvement over the cat form, that and the ability to speak. It might suffice to have the thumbs, if one could find a pen and some parchment--  
  
"Hawke?" Anders smiled to one side, but his eyes were wide and wary. "Are you all right?"

Quinn blinked rapidly. He had been staring into space again, mind a buzz. "I'm sorry." He withdrew his hands, and gestured in a way that hopefully conveyed his meaning. "I was thinking... about thumbs. They're pretty amazing, but I've never realised it before." Oh, dear. That hadn't been what he had wanted to say. Andraste guard his waggling tongue. He wet his lips and tried again. "If... if I had had thumbs, as a cat, last night, I could have written a note, to clear things up. Imagine how differently it could have all turned out."  
  
"I'm rather happy it turned out this way," Anders said, in a hushed voice Quinn had never heard before, and his wide eyes filled with warmth. "But I... can imagine it was frustrating, not being able to tell anyone who you were."  
  
Anders was still a little too careful, making no attempt to touch him, which wasn't fair, because that meant Quinn didn't dare touch him either, and he badly wanted to. He arranged the blanket better over his lap, to have something to occupy his twitchy hands.  
  
"I meant, I meant... I would've written you something along the lines of, 'Please don't fret on my account, because I'm somewhat embarrassingly infatuated with you and should you wish to bring up the subject again when I'm in my own body I would like to elaborate on that point.'"  
  
"That's a rather long note for a cat, even with thumbs," Anders said, and then he burst into breathy, fond chuckles, finally wrapping his arms around Quinn. "Oh, _Hawke_."  
  
Quinn wanted to ask him if he would mind using his given name, but Anders leaned close and they kissed again, in a careful and languid fashion, and Quinn's toes curled with the feeling that rose within him. Anders wasn't nearly as presumptuous as Quinn had imagined - he could flirt with such ease and boldness it made Quinn laugh nervously when he wanted to say something dashingly witty instead. Perhaps he could tell how nervous Quinn was. Perhaps he was a little nervous himself. This wasn't exactly the most common of circumstances.  
  
Anders's hand slid slowly down Quinn's back, following his spine, and Quinn opened his mouth to make an appreciative sort of noise. Apparently, Anders took that as a cue to tilt his head and _truly_ kiss him, mouth opening against Quinn's. It was a heady experience, and it melted away the rest of the world. Soon Quinn found himself clinging to Anders because he felt like he might float away otherwise, his stomach somersaulting as Anders explored his mouth. It was a little sloppy, and involved some accidental bumps of teeth and noses, and he forgot how to breathe again, and somehow all that only made it sweeter. Even his favourite books on the subject paled in comparison.  
  
The warm hand moved to his hip, and then to his thigh, making Quinn startle back from the kiss. "Anders," he whispered, and suddenly couldn't think of a way to end the sentence. His pulse thrummed with both excitement and anxiety.  
  
The next kiss was short and soothing, and Anders cupped the side of his face. "I can't believe I'm here, with you," he said, and did sound incredulous. He didn't move his hand away, stroking Quinn's thigh with his thumb.  
  
"Well, it's quite natural that you're here, it's your clinic, after all," Quinn said without thinking, because his nerves went straight to his tongue. "It's more extraordinary how I ended up here, and with - with no clothes, besides."  
  
Anders made a terribly nice, amused sound in his throat. His eyes glimmered. "I've noticed you're not wearing anything, trust me."  
  
That made Quinn blush all the way to his shoulders. Usually he was so careful to button up every shirt - robes were perfectly suited to his sense of modesty - and here he was... Thank goodness it was never particularly bright in Darktown, especially early in the morning.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Anders murmured, and his hand moved up to Quinn's side. He probably meant it as a calming caress, but Quinn was ticklish there, and the light touch made him squirm. Anders's hand travelled up to his ribs, and paused there. "Having you here, like this... I can't seem to keep my hands off you." He looked down, and let his hands fall, grasping Quinn's fingers instead. "You... heard me last night, didn't you? Maker's breath, I can't even heal you without thinking, _feeling_... " His hold tightened.  
  
Quinn slanted his head, and tried to find Anders's eyes. He turned his hands around, grasping Anders's hands in turn. "Yes?"  
  
Anders looked up, and his gaze was so intent it halted Quinn's breath. "I thought, with Justice... this part of me was locked away forever. I never imagined I'd meet someone like you, who could make me feel like this. Please... please, Hawke, tell me I'm not still dreaming."  
  
Quinn was kissing him before he realised what he was doing, because the words made something warm and astonishing bloom in his chest that couldn't be contained. It was a breathless, desperate kind of kiss, and he ended it with a litany of hushed words of his own.  
  
"You're not, or if you are, we're occupying the same corner of the Fade, and you know, I - I think I do understand. Well, I haven't invited a spirit to share my head, so it isn't quite the same... But before - before you, I had got rather comfortable with the thought that it would be just me and my books, for the rest of my life. You weren't at all what I expected, and I had no idea, no idea at all - oh, Anders, dear Anders, we've both been rather silly, haven't we?"  
  
Anders kissed the corner of his mouth, which dammed the flow of words, finally, and withdrew to look at him, smiling. "I... Yes," he said, quietly, "I suppose we have been." He glanced at their hands, still entwined between them. "So, Hawke..." His smile trembled. "What do you think? Am I affectionate enough? To be your lover?"  
  
 _Lover._ What a grand word, packed with meaning. Quinn fidgeted, because it was all so overwhelming, this confession business, and the way Anders regarded him, so hopefully...  
  
"You're just right, but if you'd call me Quinn...? Please?"  
  
"Quinn," Anders whispered, and it sounded so perfect coming from him that Quinn had to kiss him again, combing one hand through his strawberry blonde hair.  
  
He was starting to learn the right ways to melt their mouths together, the whens and hows of eager tongues and nipping teeth, when they were interrupted by a rumbling sound. Quinn's mind was so attuned to Anders that it took him a moment to realise that it had been his own stomach.  
  
"Oh, I'm so sorry! Now that I think about it, I haven't eaten anything since lunch yesterday. Thank you for the milk, it was perfectly nice, but..."  
  
Anders drew his back straight, and looked like he was counting to ten in his mind, his breathing unsteady. "Even - even if you were a cat, a small bowl of milk wouldn't have been a real meal. I'm afraid I don't have much in the way of breakfast. I suppose we could go find--"  
  
They both realised the problem.  
  
"Ah."  
  
"I... don't suppose you have any clothes I could borrow?"  
  
Anders raked a hand through his own hair, frowning. "Not really. And I wouldn't trust the clothes sold in Darktown to be anything but nit-infested rags. I'd have to go all the way to Hightown to fetch you something suitable."  
  
Quinn was loathe to part from him. He tactfully didn't mention that he wasn't sure if the blanket was entirely nit-free, either. "Well, the solution seems simple enough. I'll just cast the transformation spell again, and then, if you'd be so kind, you can take me back to the estate."  
  
Anders looked like he wasn't sure what to think of the idea. "You... remember how to cast it?"  
  
"I hate to brag, but I do have something of an excellent memory." Quinn considered it. "I still don't know how to turn back into a human at will, though. I think that calls for a different spell altogether, because according to my research..."

"Wouldn't simply casting Dispel on you work?" Anders interrupted Quinn's prattle, looking ponderous. "I don't know why I didn't come to think of testing it last night. It didn't even occur to me that you were... that you had shape-shifted. It's a pretty rare form of magic."  
  
Quinn could have laughed out loud, so pleased he was to discuss magic theory with Anders. It was a mundane sort of fantasy, but it had been his secret wish for a long time. "You know, it should. This isn't true shape-shifting, not in the elvhen tradition - I was following a Tevinter magister's theories on its possible variations. So I don't see why Dispel wouldn't work. Let's give it a try, shall we?"  
  
He pulled Anders close for one last kiss, already wondering how he could make it all the way to Hightown without kissing him. He committed the feel of Anders's lips to memory, and let the power sleeping within him stir and take shape in his mind, coaxed it into forms and patterns. Shape-shifting itself was quick enough, but it was very important to prepare the spell properly - one didn't want to end up a caterpillar, say, or caught between two forms.  
  
A cat with thumbs. It was something to consider for further research.  
  
The world rushed into his feline senses, a bewildering cacophony of sound and a medley of intriguing scents, and he had to take a moment to focus. He was warmer now, with fur covering his naked skin. Anders seemed to be a whole lot closer all of a sudden because his scent was everywhere, even on Quinn himself. He wasn't sure how cats were supposed to react to someone who smelled so very nice, but his instinct was to push his head against Anders's hand and purr in approval, so he did that.  
  
It was endearing to watch Anders puzzle over how to pick him up, when he had had no difficulty the night before. Quinn opened his mouth to reassure him that he was doing fine, but a meow came out instead, reminding him that discussion would have to wait until they were in Hightown.  
  
Anders made a contemplative sound. "All right. How about this? One meow for yes, two for no."   
  
Quinn mewed once, trying to sound as agreeable as possible, and reached out with one paw to tap Anders's nose.  
  
It made Anders laugh, low in his throat. "You're adorable, you know that?" He set Quinn down, and stroked the back of his head, eyes narrowed with affection. "I don't mean just as a cat, either. At least when you're like this I can resist my urge to throw you down and ravish you. Maker, Quinn. The things you do to me."  
  
Did cats fidget? It appeared not. Quinn settled for gathering his paws close and sitting very straight, first fluffing out his tail and then relaxing again. Being wanted was a new experience in itself, but he could also _smell_ it on Anders, something very male and intimate that threatened to blur his vision. He would be surrounded by this... awareness of Anders, all the way to Hightown. If he wasn't a cat, his reaction would've been downright indecent, not to mention embarrassing.

Anders pulled on his clothes, and Quinn made no secret of watching him - it was nothing he hadn't seen before, after all, and Anders was getting dressed instead of the other way around. But furtive glances showed that Anders was... Oh, Andraste, he wasn't fully erect, but his arousal was still unmistakable, and Anders didn't seem to care. He appeared fairly relaxed about wandering around the room in nothing but his small clothes, throwing Quinn little knowing smiles every now and then. Quinn was glad cats didn't blush. He felt like a prude in comparison.  
  
Anders bent down to pick up his breeches, and the muscles of his back flexed. Quinn let himself fall down on his stomach, because he felt strangely weak in the legs all of a sudden. Surely all cats couldn't be sensitive to human arousal to such an extent. It might have been because he was a human with access to feline senses; he was aware of human responses in a way cats probably weren't.  
  
Eventually, Anders found and put on all his clothes, and it helped a little; Quinn was very nearly overwhelmed, and he didn't know how much of it was due to his heightened senses. Anders placed Quinn on his shoulder. It was a surprisingly comfortable place, leaning against the feathered pauldron, and he could sink his claws into the leather coat without having to worry about accidentally scratching Anders.  
  
Anders patted him, and smiled as he picked up his staff. "There. Just hold on; I know a couple of shortcuts through Lowtown."  
  
Quinn meowed yes, and settled in, hoping that some clear air would help make his thoughts less muddled.

\-----------------

The moment they climbed out of the depths of Darktown, however, they heard the unmistakable drumming of rain. It was pouring outside, a veritable summer storm, and Quinn discovered that as unpleasant as being caught outside in the rain was for a human, it was doubly so for a cat. The cold water seeped into his fur, and although Anders gathered him close in order to shield him from the worst of it, he was soon shivering.  
  
"Maker's bollocks," Anders muttered, and ran towards the nearest shelter, "I'm sorry, Hawke. Try to crawl under my coat."  
  
It was a nice offer, but Anders's coat was so snugly fastened that Quinn couldn't fit more than a paw under it. He settled for clinging to Anders with all his might.  
  
A little surprised meow escaped him when Anders ran into someone when he was hurrying to the shelter of an abandoned vendor's stall.  
  
"Varric," Anders said, slightly out of breath, but Quinn had already recognised him by his scent.  
  
The storyteller raised his eyebrows. He was better prepared for the rain than they were; Bianca was wrapped safely in leather. "Blondie. You're not taking very good care of your new friend."  
  
Anders laughed, a little uncomfortably, and held Quinn closer. "Actually--"  
  
"Don't bother checking if Hawke is home yet; he isn't. I was just there, and ran into his mother when she was leaving." Varric raised a hand to stop Anders from saying anything. "She said he was probably poring over the chantry archives. Apparently he sometimes spends the whole night there, buried in parchment. Sounds riveting, doesn't it? We have to drag him out to the Hanged Man more often."  
  
Anders was quiet for a moment. "I'm sure that if he were here he'd point out how useful his research has proven to be. Some of us value such dedication."  
  
It was probably one of the nicest compliments Quinn had ever received, and he wished he could express it somehow, but he sneezed instead, desperately burrowing his paws into Anders's pauldron.  
  
Varric snorted, and gave Anders a friendly shove. "Some of us are also hopelessly besotted."  
  
"Maybe not hopelessly," Anders replied, and although he couldn't see it, Quinn heard the smile in his voice. The wonderment that shone through the words warmed him even in his drenched state.  
  
Varric quirked his eyebrow. "Really. That sounds like a prologue to a tale. I have to take care of some business, but how about a drink tonight? I'll tell Corff to bring out the brandy that's actually brandy, and not sugar-laced piss."  
  
Ooh, Quinn would have loved a splash of brandy, to warm him up. He meowed wistfully.  
  
It seemed to bring Anders's attention to him, and he scratched the back of Quinn's head apologetically. "Sorry, Varric, but I have to go. He's freezing, and I need to get him indoors. I'll talk to you later."  
  
"Sure, Blondie. You know where to find me."  
  
They left Varric there, stroking his chin and looking all too knowing. Then again, that was what he always looked like.  
  
\-----------------  
  
Anders did his best to hurry, and shelter Quinn from the rain, but the downpour was relentless, and the way to Hightown was long and winding even with shortcuts. By the time they reached the estate, Quinn was drenched to the bone, and not even Anders's touch felt warm through his dripping fur.  
  
Bodahn was surprised to see Anders, but didn't object to his sprawling explanations of arranging to meet Hawke and being caught in the rain storm. It wasn't the first time he had visited, after all. Quinn thought back to all the times he had opened the door to see Anders, and how he had stumbled through the conversation on mage underground and Kirkwall politics, trying not to think about how bafflingly beautiful he was. Could he really have thrown his arms around him and declared his feelings? Could it have been that simple to spare Anders from spending lonely nights talking to cats, thinking he wasn't cherished in return? Sweet Andraste, what a fool love had made him.  
  
Bodahn fetched some towels and said he'd put the kettle on, and upon seeing Quinn, warned Anders about the mabari who was sleeping in the library.

As soon as he could, Anders sneaked upstairs, and closed the door of Quinn's bedroom behind them. He took a deep breath as he put Quinn down on the bed.   
  
"I'm sorry about this," he murmured, draping Quinn in towels, his hands glowing with gently warming magic although the room was far from cold. Elemental magic did explain why he wasn't shivering as well. Well, that and the lack of very absorbent fur.  
  
Quinn sneezed again, and intended to assure Anders that the rain was hardly his fault. The tiny mewling sound that escaped him instead sounded fairly pathetic. He tried to rub his wet fur dry against the towels, but couldn't hold them in place in order to do it properly, and thought longingly of thumbs.  
  
Anders took off his dripping coat and boots, and wiped his wet face on his sleeve when he sat heavily on the edge of the bed. He must have felt just as uncomfortable as Quinn did, but the sight of him stirred Quinn nonetheless, clothes clinging to his skin, hair darkened and damp, cheeks a little flushed from the warmth of the room. Now that they were alone, his scent enveloped Quinn, and almost made him purr.  
  
"Ready? Maker, I hope this works..."  
  
Quinn meowed yes, and felt how the pattern of his own spell was slowly unravelled, Anders's magic picking it apart thread by thread, until it fell away. There was a curious feeling of being stretched when his limbs grew to their real shape, and then he was sitting on the bed, his toes numb with cold, breathing in deep in an effort to hold on to the enticing scent.  
  
And naked. Again. Quinn hastily pulled the towel to cover himself, hands fumbling when he realised that _awareness_ of Anders had left him in a state of obvious arousal. Andraste's mercy, the day had barely begun and already it was full of embarrassments; Anders couldn't have had any idea how alluring he was to cat senses, whatever he must have thought of Quinn--  
  
Their eyes met. Anders looked like he couldn't quite catch his breath. His hand felt warm when he grasped Quinn's upper arm.  
  
Between one gasped breath and the next, they were kissing, driven by hunger that had nothing to do with a nice glass of brandy and hot mutton stew and a bit of plum duff to top it off. Quinn was faintly aware of some kind of noise bubbling out of him, but he had no blessed idea what he was trying to convey. He laid one hand on Anders's shoulder, and the other on his side to hold him right there. Underneath his damp clothes Anders felt amazingly warm, and his heart beat so fast, and his mouth explored Quinn's with such ardour... And his hands. Oh, his clever hands, travelling all over Quinn and eliciting new and wonderful responses.  
  
It became too much. He was already light-headed, and Anders was making him more so by the second. He had to pull back from the kiss, as amazing as it was.  
  
"That shirt," he observed, delighted to speak instead of meowing, "it must be awfully wet, and - and clingy and uncomfortable, why don't you--"  
  
It turned out he didn't need to finish the awkward sentence, because Anders tugged the shirt over his head and threw it on the floor, which probably didn't help its sodden state. Quinn's attention quickly focused on what his hands were doing next. They brushed the towels aside, and a warm palm pressed against Quinn's chest, pushing him down onto his back. Before Quinn's heart could jump into this throat, Anders leaned over him to kiss him with shivery care, then withdrew and smoothed down Quinn's hair, which was probably curling and going wild as it dried.   
  
"May I?" he asked in whisper, hand drifting down Quinn's chest, painting tingly lines.  
  
Whatever it was he was referring to, there was only one answer. Quinn nodded, because his tongue refused to work, and Anders's warm touch trailed down his body, making his spine feel like it was melting into hot liquid. Anders's mouth latched on to the side of his neck, and his tongue tickled pleasantly but didn't distract Quinn from the hand that closed around his - oh, Maker, Maker take him--

Anders gave his aching length slow even strokes, and it was heavenly but somehow still not enough. Quinn reached out for him, knowing only that he wanted him closer, wanted to feel more of him than his clever hands and warm, wet mouth. They crashed into a kiss utterly devoid of hesitation, a breathy, glorious mess that only ended when Anders's attention turned momentarily elsewhere. He fumbled and pulled on the lacings of his breeches, breathing harshly, and then he kicked them off along with his smalls, and was entirely naked, kneeling on the bed before Quinn. He leaned over him again, but Quinn had time to burn into memory the kiss-darkened lips, the rain-damp skin, the muscular hairy thighs - oh, he could almost hate Anders's coat now, for covering his legs so thoroughly that Quinn had never noticed how shapely they were - and, and... He swallowed. Something in him still jumped back from the thought of finding it arousing, but he _did_ ; the pert cock with its exposed head all reddened and glistening. It curved slightly to one side, he thought, and that was strangely appealing, adding character.   
  
Beautiful, Anders was a beautiful man, and even with his human nose Quinn caught an echo of his scent, musky and wonderful, when Anders moved closer to kiss him.  
  
Conscious thought fled, and Quinn was floating in a sea of sensations, feeling Anders's skin sliding over his, the heat of their bodies mingling. Anders was quite heavy, and movement had to be a mutual effort, but that only made it more intimate, to move together like that. They kissed deeply, and swallowed each other's gasps and tiny noises. A lovely tension was building inside Quinn, with Anders rocking against him, so impossibly close that it was like he was crawling under his skin. He raised his knees, and drew in his stomach, and felt how much the pleasure intensified when the slightly changed angle made their erections rub together even harder. Encouraged, he urged Anders closer with the heel of his foot.  
  
Anders groaned against his collarbone, tensing all over, and Quinn panicked, worrying he had done something wrong. He melted, however, when Anders moved downwards, lips skimming over the skin, dropping kisses here and there until Quinn writhed, hands grabbing for something to hold on to. A thought flitted through his mind: _no one has ever kissed me there, or there_ , but then Anders reached his navel - _or especially there_ \- and Quinn's back bowed as pleasure jolted through him, turning his mind into blissful mush.  
  
Anders slipped off the bed and pulled Quinn closer, kneeling on the floor between Quinn's legs. Quinn pushed himself up on his arms to see what it was he was doing, although everything was blurry and he couldn't put two thoughts together. He did it just in time to see Anders cup his ball sac in one hand, and kiss a path up the inside of his thigh while his hand stroked and massaged. It should have been... well, shocking, but Anders seemed so at ease, so very _enthusiastic_ about it that it seemed the most natural thing in the world.  
  
Just when Quinn thought he could no longer keep from wriggling around in need, Anders wrapped a hand loosely around his length and licked a stripe of wet heat up to the glans. Quinn fell right on his back again, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought to remain still. Anders's mouth covered his cock - _all of it_ \- in wet warmth, giving it soft sucks, and his hand stroked Quinn's thigh, and it felt too good to be true. Quinn's leg started to tremble, then spasm, like he was a mabari puppy getting the best pets in the world. Anders's mouth was lovely and hungry, and Quinn felt himself succumbing to the rising wave of feeling within him. He fought it at first, intimidated by the thought of letting go, of being so vulnerable in front of someone else, but Anders coaxed and teased, sweet but relentless. Finally, it could be denied no longer; Quinn cried out and came, leg spasming, hands clawing at the covers. The rush of relief left him boneless and blissful.

To his amazement, Anders didn't withdraw. He continued to suck and lick, gently now, lapping up every last drop. As soon as he could, Quinn pushed himself up and stared at him, quite speechless. There was something incredibly stirring about it, and he thought he might feel a bit scandalised. More than that, however, he felt the burning need to learn how to do this to Anders, to make him feel this good, too.  
  
Anders climbed back onto the bed, curling against Quinn's side, and leaned in for a kiss. Quinn wound an arm around his neck and gave him what was probably a very silly smile, but then remembered at the last moment and turned his face away before Anders's lips landed on his.  
  
"Hawke?" Anders sounded out of breath and dreadfully worried.  
  
Quinn stroked back his hair in an effort to reassure him. "I... Thank you, that was... You made me _soar_ , and it's Quinn, by the way, I did mention that, didn't I? What you just... did, wonderfully, I might add, with your mouth, I mean..." He bit his lower lip, averting his gaze, and nervous laughter spilt out of him. "I'm sorry, my thoughts are all a-jumble - Is that done, generally? Kissing? After... wards?"  
  
Anders caressed Quinn's jaw, coaxing him to look up at him. "I guess it depends on the person." The side of his mouth curved up. "Do you want to kiss me?"  
  
That wasn't truly a question, was it? But there was so much feeling simmering in the air now; it made them both a bit jittery. Quinn looked at Anders's handsome face, saw the anticipation there in his eyes. "Yes," he whispered, and that was all the encouragement Anders needed. His tongue tasted salty and familiar, and Quinn's heart did a funny little hop. He took more pleasure in the intimacy of it than he dared to admit.  
  
While they kissed, Quinn realised his hand was free to roam over Anders's skin, and cautiously slid his fingers down his ribs - Anders needed more hot meals, he decided, and definitely more desserts. Something sticky-sweet that he could feed him with a spoon, perhaps. He explored further, feeling quite brave, and felt how tense Anders was, his muscles drawn tight. It wasn't difficult at all to recognise that he was holding back; his hands were almost shaking from it.  
  
Quinn kissed Anders one more time and sat up. He stroked Anders's cheek, marvelling at the way his stubble tickled his fingertips. "Anders?" he asked, quietly. "Would you... show me how you want me to touch you?"   
  
Anders scrambled up and blinked, staring at Quinn as if he wasn't quite sure he was really there. His mouth was hanging slightly open. "It's all right; you don't have to--"

It wasn't a matter of _having to_ at all, and Quinn wanted Anders to know it. He wrapped his hand around Anders's, squeezing it tightly. "Show me? I want so very much to - to please you, and I'm sorry but I'm not sure if I can... do what you just did, not without some, some guidance; I might end up doing it all wrong and hurting you, and I won't, no matter how much healing magic you know."  
  
Anders's cock bobbed demandingly, flushed and needing attention. He brought their entwined hands to his chest, held them over his thumping heart. His voice was hoarse and breathy. "Feel this? No fancy tricks needed. I'm about to come undone, Hawke. Whatever you feel comfortable with is fine, more than fine."  
  
Quinn's hands, so cold only moments before, were sweaty now, even his toes tingling with warmth. "Um, Quinn, if you don't mind?"  
  
" _Quinn_. Sorry." Anders eased into slight laughter. "Too many dreams of calling out that name when I come, I suppose."   
  
And leaving Quinn's mind reeling from the comment, he directed Quinn's hand down, slowly enough that Quinn had plenty of time to pull away if he so desired. He most assuredly did not, even though the second his palm made contact with Anders's cock, he had to suppress a shudder. Was this truly him, touching Anders, fitting his fingers around him and learning his shape? He ignored the lump of nervousness in his throat, and told his hands not to shake. He smoothed his palm over the engorged head, and curled his fingers to tease the underside of the ridge, the way he liked to touch himself. It seemed like a logical place to start, and there was a sufficient amount of slick leaking from the slit to make it easy.  
  
Anders made a strangled noise in his throat, and Quinn almost withdrew his hand, but Anders leaned back on the heels of his palms and squirmed into Quinn's touch, and that couldn't possibly be a bad sign, so Quinn continued. Granted, the teasing was probably a bit unnecessary; if Anders's anatomy worked at all like Quinn's, all he needed at this point were firm strokes from root to tip, so taut he was. But he had Anders now, and he was tempted to take his time to explore.  
  
"More," Anders mumbled, panting, his toes curling tightly. "Please, Quinn, _more_..."  
  
Well, that settled it. Exploring would have to wait; this was about Anders's pleasure, after all. Quinn let his hand slip down, and up again, building a steady tempo, mesmerised by the way Anders's eyes rolled back and squeezed shut, by his shallow breaths, the tremble that built somewhere deep inside him and travelled to his limbs. He kept fairly quiet as he climbed towards his climax, but when his hips suddenly jerked and hot, sticky seed spurted over his stomach and into Quinn's palm, the sound that escaped sounded like _Hawke_.  
  
Quinn stared, if not ogled. He couldn't help it. Anders, his lovely Anders was writhing in pleasure, pushing against Quinn's hand, his mouth hanging open to let out his heaving breaths, his come glistening on his flushed skin... Oh, that would be troublesome to wipe off if it was allowed to dry, given the amount of fair, coarse hair Anders had there. Quinn scooped up most of it and then, without thinking, brought his hand to his mouth, because this was a private depravity of his, to taste himself. He was dreadfully embarrassed of it, but Anders hadn't seemed to find it repulsive at all, and that thought calmed him. His mouth filled with a taste that reminded him of the scent picked up by his feline senses, but saltier, slightly different.  
  
He contemplated kissing Anders like this, their tastes mingling in his mouth, but decided it was probably a bit much. He blushed at the thought, but Anders's eyes were still closed and no one could see. Sweet Maker, what his imagination came up with. He tore his eyes away, and stood up to fetch a washcloth, not wanting Anders to feel uncomfortable once he returned to his senses.  
  
When he came back he fell more than sat down, because suddenly all he could see was a cloud of bright sparks, and his legs felt like they were made of sponge cake. Anders scooted closer, laying his hand on his shoulder, and hummed a questioning noise into his hair.

"Seeing stars a bit," Quinn explained, and turned to smile to Anders as his vision returned to normal. He handed him the cloth, having wiped his hand. "I think I'll sit right here for a minute, catch my breath, if you don't mind."  
  
Anders wound his arm around him, and he leaned into the embrace. "Take your time." He kissed Quinn's shoulder, twice, before speaking up again, worry making his voice hoarse. "Sorry. That was a little... rushed. I should have made it more special for you - it was your first time with a man, wasn't it?"  
  
Quinn was struck speechless, and while he opened his mouth and shut it again uselessly, his stomach growled, doing his talking for him.  
  
If anything, it made Anders sound more worried, hold him even closer. "And I brought you here so you could get something to eat, didn't I? Maker, I'm sorry, Quinn--"  
  
"No, no, Anders, please, sweetling, listen..." Quinn found his tongue, and turned around. He grasped Anders's head with both hands, to make him meet his eyes. "It was you, and it was what we both wanted, wasn't it, and that made it _beautiful_. I couldn't ask for anything better." He kissed Anders's eyebrow, missing his forehead when Anders moved his head.  
  
Their mouths found each other, and the kiss was tender and soft.  
  
"'Sweetling'?" Anders asked when he pulled back, a touch of amusement in his tone.  
  
"Yes, well, you are rather sweet." Quinn's cheeks grew hotter, but he ignored it. He ran his fingers through Anders's chest hair. "As for rushed, w-well, I'm certainly in no hurry, if you catch my meaning, as long as I can get something to eat first."  
  
Anders's eyes glimmered with pleasure when he tilted his head to steal another kiss. "Mm. I don't suppose I can convince you to remain naked?"  
  
Quinn laughed. "You did warm me up very successfully, but I'm afraid I _would_ prefer to wear some clothes for breakfast." A warm tendril of hope curled within him. "You can always help me undress afterwards?"  
  
He saw from the sly tilt of Anders's smile that he was about to say something cheeky in reply, but a knock on the door made them both fall silent for a moment.  
  
"Yes, what is it?" Quinn spoke up.  
  
"Messere Hawke? Is that you?" Bodahn's voice sounded hesitant. "I've set the table and the tea is ready, if...?"  
  
"Thank you," Quinn said, wondering how he would explain his sudden appearance. 'Mysterious magic business' might suffice - Bodahn was the discreet sort, bless him. He went to the wardrobe and took out some clean clothes, for the both of them, because Anders's were in no condition to be worn. Luckily they were about the same size. "And Maker's breath, I hope you made the tea as strong as Fort Drakon, Bodahn. I'm ravenous - have we anything by way of breakfast? Some toast, at least?"  
  
"Yes, messere, there's toast, and the gooseberry jam should still be in the pantry, and I could certainly prepare some eggs."  
  
"Eggs! You blessed dwarf, I could kiss you!" Quinn exclaimed. "Scrambled, please, and do help yourself to everything, if I've forgotten to mention."  
  
There was a slight pause. "And will master Anders be joining you for breakfast as well?"  
  
Quinn eyed Anders, and they shared a smile. "Yes. Absolutely."  
  
"Very good," Bodahn said, and the floorboards creaked slightly as he walked away.  
  
Quinn sneaked glances at Anders - Maker, but he looked enticing getting dressed in Quinn's clothes - and agreed with Bodahn. This was something very, very good, and the best part was the anticipation of more to come.  
  
\-----------------

Bodahn had outdone himself; not only was the tea strong and the gooseberry jam plentiful, but there was also a mushroom quiche (made for Quinn's mother, who loved mushrooms, but there was plenty left), excellent garlic sausages, and honeycakes hot from the pan. The eggs had even been scrambled in cream, the way Quinn liked them best. Conversation was limited after they sat down at the table, both of them too focused on eating to bother with long sentences. Anders stared at it all like he had never seen food before, and Quinn made a solemn vow to have him stay for supper as well. From what he had seen, Anders ate worse food than what they had had in Gamlen's hovel; now that Quinn could afford such luxuries, he felt bad if he didn't get to share his fortune. He had invited people for supper before, of course, but Anders had been among those who had always declined; between the the mage liberation effort and the running of the free clinic, he never had the time. But it would be different now, wouldn't it?  
  
 _Lover,_ Quinn thought, tasting the word like honey on his tongue.  
  
Bodahn whisked away the empty teapot and brought it back filled without needing to be asked.  
  
"There you are, messere," he said, "and may I say, it's a pleasure to have you with us again. Mistress Amell was quite worried about you last night."  
  
"Mother?" Quinn frowned as he reached out for the cream jug. Anders didn't even notice when Bodahn poured him more tea; he was still eating like he feared the food would disappear any minute. "Oh, dear. I better apologise to her later - where did she say she was going?"  
  
"Morning tea at lady Agathe Ryenn's mansion, if I'm not mistaken," Bodahn said, and gathered the bowls and plates they had already emptied.  
  
Quinn couldn't tear his gaze away from Anders. It was strangely fascinating to watch him eat. Now that his hunger was mostly sated, he could give all his attention to Anders, to the way he wiped jam off his chin, bit into a honeycake with strong teeth, made little appreciative noises when he found a taste he particularly liked...  
  
A familiar bark echoed through the estate, and broke his reverie.  
  
Bodahn smiled apologetically. "It seems your hound is awake, messere Hawke. Shall I let him in? He has been rather restive since last night..."  
  
"Of course, go ahead," Quinn replied, and Genitivi nearly pushed Bodahn over when he pounced into the dining room, panting, ears pricked and eyes bright.  
  
The loyal mabari hound ran straight to Quinn, but stopped to sniff at him, and let out a confused growl. He walked around Quinn's chair, as if looking for something, and sat down to stare at him, ears flattened and wary.  
  
Quinn scratched behind his ear, his favourite spot, and it made Genitivi relax a fraction. "Hullo, now - what's the matter, boy?"  
  
Anders put down his third honeycake in order to say, "Maybe he thinks there's still a trace of cat left." He licked his fingers, which Quinn thought was unfair, because that made it _very_ hard to focus on anything else.  
  
Bodahn brought Genitivi his bowl, and the hound was momentarily distracted by food. "Ah, master Anders, that reminds me. I hope you've got your, uh, feline friend behind closed doors? We had an incident just last night with a stray; I'm afraid Genitivi is rather fond of chasing cats."  
  
Quinn couldn't stifle a laugh. "Don't worry, my good dwarf. The cat is right here, and since I haven't been chased out yet, I think all is as it should be. If Genitivi holds no grudge, then neither do I."  
  
"Messere?" Bodahn looked at him, blinking in confusion.  
  
Quinn gestured with the teacup, then hastily put it down again before he spilt any. "Well, where to begin explaining. You remember, don't you, that I've been researching magister Spyridon's variations on transmutative spells?"  
  
The dwarf nodded, and his eyes seemed to look somewhere past him, the way they tended to do when Quinn talked about arcane theory.  
  
"Long story short, Bodahn, I successfully applied Spyridon's theory of temporary physical transformation to the framework of elvhen tradition I pieced together from the Chantry accounts, and ended up without any thumbs to hold a quill with - otherwise I would've naturally left a note of some kind for you and mother."

Bodahn opened his mouth, and seemed to get stuck. Quinn knew he had gone on a bit, and somehow, saying anything _more_ didn't feel like it would help, so he was stuck as well.  
  
"He turned himself into a cat," Anders put in, helpfully.  
  
"Ah, I see. Like I said, messere, good to have you back with us," was Bodahn's sole comment, and he smiled a little into his beard as he took Genitivi's empty bowl back to the kitchen.  
  
Quinn eyed Anders, grateful for his ability to cut to the marrow of the matter. He noticed Anders had honey on the side of his mouth, and tried not to think about licking it off, tried not to wonder how much the stubble would scrape his tongue - ah, too late now.  
  
On a whim, he nudged Anders's foot under the table with his toes, taking advantage of the fact that Anders wasn't wearing his usual heavy boots. Anders nudged back, to his delight, and looked up, mouth full of toast. His eyes glinted with amusement, and Quinn's heart fluttered.  
  
The breakfast became rather more hurried after that.  
  
\-----------------  
  
For propriety's sake, Quinn didn't kiss Anders before they were safely behind the bedroom door again, even though he was sorely tempted. Bodahn wasn't nosy, but he and his son had a tendency to walk in when Quinn least expected it, and there wasn't such a thing as a chaste kiss between him and Anders, not when everything was so new and raw, not when even looking at Anders made his blood run hotter. Quinn let Anders crowd him against the closed door and finally licked that errant bit of honey away, eliciting a wonderful breathy laugh. He wound one arm around Anders to hold him close as Anders kissed his mouth tingly. Oh, he understood all too well how Anders had felt, wondering if he was still dreaming; he could scarcely believe he was here, holding him close like this.  
  
Quinn only surfaced from the pleasurable haze when he felt Anders's fingers crawling under his tunic. He swallowed, and felt a sudden jolt of uncertainty. He _had_ given Anders permission to undress him, granted, had even been looking forward to it, but now that it came to it, his mind filled with tiny insecurities; the room was really _rather_ well illuminated, and what about his freckles, which were everywhere, the damned things, and--  
  
Anders touched their noses together, and made a questioning noise. He didn't withdraw his hands, but they stopped. His voice had a touch of whimsy to it. "Quinn? Are you thinking about thumbs again?"  
  
That made Quinn chuckle, and relaxed him a little. "No, I..."   
  
"Having second thoughts about taking off all your clothes?"  
  
Quinn stared. If Anders had used magic, he would've felt it in the air, but still...  
  
Anders kissed him playfully, and raised one hand to brush Quinn's temple. His narrowed eyes suggested mischief, but were warm as well. "It's not strictly necessary, you know. I have quite deft hands."  
  
Quinn was well aware, with one of them tickling his side, sliding over to his lower back, to the hollow of his spine. He swallowed again, and stood up a little better, realising he had been leaning against the door. His legs threatened to wobble when Anders didn't move back an inch, and their bodies touched from knee to shoulder.   
  
"This is perfectly lovely - _you_ are perfectly lovely - but perhaps we should, um, talk about..."  
  
The rest of the sentence was kissed away from his mouth. "Of course. Whatever you want to know," Anders said, and looked more serious when he met Quinn's eyes. He still didn't withdraw his hand, however.  
  
"If we could sit down?" Quinn tried to take a deep breath, but found it extraordinarily difficult, with Anders so close and his fingers so clever. "Before you sweep me off my feet, figuratively speaking or otherwise? It's a romantic notion in literature, but I suspect it's more uncomfortable in reality."

Anders laughed, rather fondly, and walked backwards, pulling Quinn with him, until they reached the bed. It took a moment to arrange their arms and legs until they were comfortable, but in the end they managed it. What had been a matter of comfort somehow turned into needy grasps and hands in all the right places, and they kissed again, Anders's mouth so busy and bold that Quinn could hardly keep up. In quick succession, Quinn discovered three things: that Anders was right, he didn't need to take off Quinn's clothes to touch him anywhere he wanted, only open a few selected clasps and buckles; that Anders was quite eager to be rid of his own clothes, and made appreciative noises when Quinn gave him a helping hand; and that although he wasn't sure where, it was becoming clear that they were headed somewhere new and promising.  
  
Quinn didn't at all recall that he had suggested a discussion before Anders was already down to his socks and smalls, and Quinn's tunic was pushed up and his belt unbuckled. By then, it seemed silly to even bring it up, as everything seemed to be progressing nicely, but he tried to find some words nonetheless.  
  
"Anders," he said, sliding his palm up Anders's chest, and found his voice was quite low and hushed with desire, "What would you... I mean, you know a bit more about, about these things."   
  
He paused when his fingers nudged the hard nub of Anders's nipple, and Anders reacted by shivering slightly. Quinn slid his fingers back; if anything, the nipple drew tighter when stroked, and Anders bit back a moan, narrowing his eyes.   
  
Quinn swallowed. There was so much of Anders for him to learn. "I do want you so very much, but I want to love you well, so if you have any, um, suggestions..."  
  
Anders pulled him close for a sloppy but heartfelt kiss. The faint taste of honey and gooseberries was so lovely that Quinn crawled on top of him, one knee on either side of him. Anders held onto him tightly, one hand brushing idly over Quinn's buttocks. Quinn's skin tingled where it touched Anders's, and he was rapidly changing his mind about being naked when Anders broke away from the kiss with a gasp.  
  
"I'd say it's been nothing short of wonderful so far." His smile was so deliriously happy that Quinn could feel it all the way down to his toes. "But since you asked, I was hoping I could persuade you to take me sometime soon." He stole another kiss, breathy and quick, and then more kissing became absolutely necessary, and it took a long, tantalising while before Quinn could say anything at all in reply, which was good, because Anders's words had been entirely unexpected.  
  
"Wh... Do you... What do you mean, exactly, take you?" Quinn felt heat spreading on his cheeks, and if he hadn't been leaning on his arms they would be flailing, he knew it. What a stupid question, really.  
  
Anders tilted his head and pressed his moist lips to Quinn's neck, to the tender skin just under his jawline. "I mean I want to feel your cock inside me." Another kiss, a teasing brush of tongue. "And I'm not above using some trickery to get there. You have no idea how long I've been dreaming of it."  
  
Quinn had to push himself up on the heels of his palms, in order to properly look at Anders. "But I rather thought - thought that I'd, well, let you have your way with me, so to speak? I, you know I've never done this before... What if I hurt you, in my fumbling?"  
  
"That again?" Anders sighed, but his mouth curved in a smile, and he touched Quinn's cheek. "Trust me, I'm a healer - you won't hurt me in the slightest. Maker, I know you, Quinn; you're always careful, you wouldn't hurt a fly." His smile waned, and something serious and dark flashed in his gaze. "I don't know what sort of things you've heard about sex between men, but--"  
  
"I know it isn't supposed to hurt, if done right. I do know the basics," Quinn hurried to explain, "that is, I've read about it, of course."  
  
Anders nudged him closer, and they kissed, softly now, because there were words that needed to be exchanged before they could get lost in each other again.

"I'll guide you through it," Anders promised in near whisper, running his hand through Quinn's hair. "Trust me, you won't fumble. It's nothing complicated, not in and of itself. Not so very different from being with a woman; there's a tighter grip, and you need a little more added slick, that's all."  
  
Before he knew it, Quinn was imagining it, and felt a demanding ache stir in his loins. Words tumbled out, and he couldn't stop them. "But, see, Anders, I haven't, that is..."   
  
Anders's hands stopped. Everything in him seemed to come to a screeching halt as he pieced the truth together. "What?" he all but whispered. "Not... with anyone? Y-you're not _serious_?"  
  
Quinn bit his mouth shut and buried his face in Anders's shoulder. Oh, curse his babbling tongue! Everything had been going so well, and now they had crashed right into awkwardness. "You can laugh - I know, I'm twenty-six, it's fairly odd..."  
  
Anders didn't laugh, but he certainly seemed flabbergasted. "No, I-I'm just... Before breakfast, that was your _first time_?"  
  
"I'm sorry, I should've probably mentioned it. You made it pleasantly difficult to mention much anything, though." Quinn didn't quite dare to look up yet, so he mumbled his explanations into Anders's skin instead. Warm hands pressed against his back, tentatively stroking it. It did help, but his heart still beat too fast. "I've... just always been so fond of books, really - the twins were the ones who went out and met people, and I stayed home and studied magic, and I didn't mind at all. The whole romance business has been something of a mystery to me my whole life, if I tell you the truth." He squirmed up, and Anders drew a sudden breath when he sat up, astride Anders's lap. The closeness felt quite comfortable, like they had always been that tactile with each other. "Like I said, I've read about it, so I know the theoretical side. If you'd just help me with the, the practicalities?"  
  
Anders still didn't laugh, but he made a low, amused noise in his throat, and it was such a pleasant sound that Quinn finally dared to face him. "I didn't even know they wrote books about the theory of shagging."  
  
"Not that many, to be honest. Or then they are simply hard to find. The Chantry probably confiscates them."  
  
Anders was smiling to one side, slyly, in a way that made heat pour through Quinn's veins. "Not the kind of books Varric writes, then? They seem wide-spread enough."  
  
"You know, most of the books in that genre are perfectly entertaining in their own right and have rather charming language, but they are quite useless for studying, full of - of infuriatingly vague imagery, and of no value to someone who truly wishes to _know_ \- oh, now you laugh!"  
  
And Anders did, his head thrown back, body shaking against Quinn's. It was an enormously infectious and well-meaning laugh, and Quinn lay down next to him, smiling into his shoulder. He threw his arm over Anders, and felt warm and comfortable, and no longer that embarrassed at all. Talking about it made his insecurities seem rather inconsequential - dear, sweet Anders, he didn't seem to mind, was even willing to take his time with Quinn and help him relax.   
  
His fingers moved out of their own accord, drawing ancient glyph patterns on Anders's chest. How lucky he was. Perhaps he ought to take Sebastian's advice and visit the Chantry, to offer thanks to the Maker for leaving such blessings behind when He turned His back on His creations.  
  
"Oh, _Quinn_ ," Anders said around a chuckle, the word so heavy with fondness it sunk right into Quinn and warmed him through. He rolled over onto his side as well, and tried to suppress his laughter, burying his face into Quinn's hair. "Does Varric know what a dedicated reader he has in you?"  
  
"Please don't tell him, but he isn't quite my favourite author - I've only read a few of his stories, to be honest. I could recognise some of the characters, from real life I mean, and that was a fair bit uncomfortable."

Quinn bit his lip to keep from blurting out that discomfort was rather the squirm-inducing guilty pleasure kind when it came to the stories about the mysterious renegade mage, all of which he _had_ discreetly collected and read. The memory of some of the most... vivid descriptions made his cock twitch to attention, reminding him that while it was willing to be patient, it didn't appreciate being ignored for long.  
  
Quinn shifted into a more comfortable position, but his smalls still chafed. He would have to make sure Anders never found the key to the topmost drawer of his night stand.   
  
His shifting about didn't go unnoticed. Anders's gaze darted downwards, and he slid one curious, warm hand under Quinn's tunic again, further pushing it up. "Read me some of your favourites later? I do love your voice."  
  
Through some kind of miracle, Quinn didn't blush, although the idea certainly had appeal. He took Anders's other hand in his. "Anders, I'm about to say something that I don't expect you'll hear from me very often, if at all: Could we please stop talking about books now? By all means, let's continue that discussion some other time, but..."  
  
Anders leant close for a kiss. "Happy to," he said against Quinn's lips. "Mm, are you sure about the clothes? Because I'd love to feel your skin on mine."  
  
"I've reconsidered," Quinn said, smiling reassuringly, and without giving himself a chance to have second thoughts about it, he scrambled up and pulled the tunic over his head. He folded it over and puzzled over what to do with it while Anders helpfully took off his socks, as well as his own. He gestured for Anders to stand up. "Here. Let me turn down the bed for us, properly, if you follow me."  
  
After he had pulled back the heavy quilt, they removed the last pieces of clothing, slowly and carefully. Quinn wasn't sure if he breathed at all when Anders slid his small clothes down his hips and legs, but he didn't feel as nervous as he thought he might've. Anders gave him no time to over-think; as soon as they were both naked, he kissed Quinn with barely contained need, and led him back to the bed. Their limbs tangled, and the quilt became both a comfort and a hindrance as they shifted restlessly on the bed, their mouths still joined. Pleasure skittered along Quinn's nerves, and he didn't mind that their knees seemed to bump whatever they did, because Anders knew just where to gently brush the pads of his fingers over the responsive skin, and where to press and knead, his blunt nails leaving fading marks, until Quinn felt like his whole body had been electrified.  
  
Anders broke away from the kiss, gasping against Quinn's exposed neck. His palm slid down Quinn's erection, just a lazy stroke of the foreskin. "We'll need some slick." He dipped his head down to kiss a short path down to Quinn's nipple, making him arch against the pillows. "I think I have something in my belt pouches--"  
  
But that would mean letting go of Anders, and Quinn didn't think he could bear it. He brushed his hand through Anders's hair, and pulled the cord away, letting his hair fall loose. It framed his face in a most attractive way when he looked down at Quinn, breathing heavily, his hand moving between them.  
  
"I-I have some safflower oil, if that's all right?"  
  
Anders blew his hair out of his eyes, and raised his eyebrows, smiling that sly smile of his. "Oil is going to mess up your sheets, just a warning. Safflower?"  
  
Quinn kissed him, although the angle was awkward, tucking his hair behind his ear. "I use it on my skin. I get sunburn so easily." He groped blindly for the night stand, and with a little reaching, he managed to get the bottom drawer open and found the familiar shape of the bottle. Anders seemed to approve, coating his fingers. Drops of oil spattered over Quinn's stomach and made him gasp. Anders just smiled and smeared them into his skin with a few teasing caresses.

He scooted down on the bed, and sucked the head of Quinn's cock into his mouth, lapping and tasting, his tongue soft and hot as it swirled along the sensitive slit. Quinn could hear himself moaning, and the sound was so wanton he almost didn't recognise his voice. Slick fingers toyed with his balls, and then reached _behind_ them, rubbing circles. It brought forth a pleasurable tremble that seemed to originate from his very core; he had never felt anything quite like it.  
  
Anders continued to lick, his tongue now hard and fast and purposeful. His fingers massaged and kneaded, and the added pressure made Quinn bite his lower lip to keep back at least _some_ of the shameless noises he was making.  
  
"How's that? Nice?" Anders's breath felt like a caress in its own right. "That's only a little taste of how good you're going to make me feel."  
  
The words hit home, and Quinn pushed himself up, ignoring the building tension within him. He gently turned Anders to look at him. "Before that, that is, if you have no objection..." His voice was hoarse and quiet. "I want to..." He swallowed, and gathered his courage. "I want to taste you, too, if that's all right?"  
  
"Is it _all right_?" Anders smiled and shook his head, and his hair fell over his face again. "No, that doesn't even begin to describe it." He leaned in to kiss Quinn, and rolled over onto his back obediently, displaying his flushed and swollen cock. It curved slightly towards Quinn, and that was a sign if Quinn ever saw one.  
  
He leaned one hand against Anders's stomach, and reached out to wrap his fingers around the shaft, to hold it in place, his hands shaking just barely. The hold turned into a stroke - it seemed only natural - and a drop beaded at the tip. Acting on impulse, Quinn licked it into his mouth, and felt faint with desire because this close, Anders's scent was everywhere, and his taste was on Quinn's tongue. His heart hopped and skipped like a foal in a meadow, and he carefully gave the tip another lick, feeling how the whole cock seemed to swell and respond against his hand.  
  
"Start... slow," Anders all but breathed out, "exactly like - like that. Watch out for your t-teeth, _Maker_ , Hawke, d'you know how hard it is to talk when you're doing that?"  
  
It was a rush to have the power to make Anders stutter. "Quinn," he reminded, and threw Anders a smile before continuing to lick, lapping up the dizzying, salty taste.  
  
It did seem like there was more he could be doing. Remembering what Anders had done to him, he let the head slide into his mouth, shocked at his own daring. Minding his teeth, he tried to take in more, but soon had to pull back when his throat protested, and coughed to the side. Oh, he would need a good deal of practise, it seemed.  
  
Anders took a deep breath, and Quinn watched with fascination as his abdominal muscles tensed. His hand was groping around for the bottle.   
  
"You all right?" Anders asked, a touch of worry in his tone. "Slow does it." He was opening the bottle as he spoke.  
  
Quinn nodded, blushing down to his shoulders as he lost his nerve and averted his gaze. "I'm sorry. You did mention that, but I--"  
  
Anders reached out to caress his upper arm, soothingly. "No need to apologise, love, you were doing fine."  
  
The endearment was quick and casual, but it still made Quinn's heart skip a beat. He wanted to plead Anders to say it again, slower, in that low, suggestive purr of his, but couldn't get one word out of his mouth.  
  
Anders's hand didn't stop. "I've a suggestion? If you feel like continuing, careful so you don't choke, I'll prepare myself in the meantime."  
  
"Prepare... yourself?"  
  
"Just watch." Anders winked - _winked_ \- at him, and rolled his hips to the side, raising one knee, so that he could reach...   
  
Sweet Maker. Quinn stared slack-jawed as Anders rubbed his fingers, glistening with oil, down his cleft. He intended to say something to the effect of "can I somehow watch you and lick you at the same time", but the look on Anders's face tied his tongue. Anders wet his lower lip in concentration when he reached his opening, eyes growing hazy as he worked one finger in.

"Been... a while," he mumbled, "better make s-- _nnh!_ "  
  
Quinn truly didn't know what he was doing - he had never been a very impulsive person - but it seemed he couldn't _not_ take Anders into his mouth, even if it was just the glans. In a rush of delicious, breathy sounds Anders was making, his musky scent crowding his senses, and the hint of a rhythm his hips set, Quinn thought he finally grasped the mechanics of it. Anders's hand clenched into his hair, and tugged a little, but he didn't let it bother him.  
  
Finally, Anders grasped his shoulder, pushing until Quinn withdrew. They both drew breath like they had surfaced after a long dive, and their eyes met. Following Anders's insistent tugging, Quinn squirmed up to kiss him, and it quickly turned wild and voracious, tension singing through them both. He could feel Anders shifting in place, and then a slippery hand gave his aching cock a firm stroke, lingering at the head. He smothered his groan into the hollow of Anders's throat.   
  
"I want you," Anders whispered frantically, "Maker, I want you _so much_."  
  
Quinn dragged his thoughts together, although it took considerable effort. He braced himself on one arm, and looked at Anders, his loose hair sticking to his skin with sweat, a faint blush on his cheeks, well-kissed lips slightly parted. His sweet lover. Heat clenched in his stomach, and he had to kiss those lips again, close his eyes and focus on nothing but that contact for a moment.

Anders was turning his hips away, and raising his other knee, and somehow, without ever breaking the kiss, they ended up with Quinn's chest pressed more or less against Anders's back, his leg nudging between Anders's. Anders had to crane his neck in order to continue kissing him, and Quinn leaned in to spare him from any discomfort, wrapping one arm around him. His erection was throbbing demandingly against Anders's lower back, but the closeness meant more to him at the moment, and he drank it in.  
  
Anders pushed his hips back, and tentatively, Quinn shifted in order to rub his cock along the cleft between Anders's buttocks. He had to eventually pull back from the kiss in order to concentrate. The coarse hair was almost too rough, almost, and Quinn shuddered at the sensation, especially as Anders squirmed, making an eager noise. He could feel the oil, making everything a little slippery, but he didn't want to take any chances, not when he couldn't know what amount of friction was all right and what could be uncomfortable for Anders. The bottle was within easy reach, and he opened it with shaky hands.  
  
The muscles of Anders's back tightened, and brought out the delightful dimples on either side of the base of his spine as Quinn slid his oil-slick fingers over them.  
  
" _Please_ , Haw-- Quinn," Anders gasped, squirming impatiently. "Please, _do it_ , I'm ready---"  
  
"I just want to make sure." Quinn kissed his neck, and the tense anticipation he sensed in Anders only made him more determined to be as careful and tender with him as he could. "You did mention it has been a while?"  
  
"Yes, but..." Anders groaned, his hand clenching the sheets almost hard enough to rip them. His voice was barely audible. "All right, point made, but please, hurry."  
  
Dropping a soothing kiss on the nape of Anders's neck, Quinn probed with his shivering, oil-covered fingers until he reached what he was looking for. He truly had no idea how to do this properly, but the point was to make sure they had enough slick, wasn't it, and it didn't seem all that complex a procedure. Maker, the way Anders clenched his muscles... "Patience, love. No harm in being careful, is there?" He leaned in until he could look Anders in the eyes.  
  
Anders laughed, breathily. "You sweet _tease_." He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering himself. His hand went to his own cock, pinching it at the base. "Start slowly. Give me time to adjust before you push all the way in. Trust me, you'll - you'll notice when we find a good angle."  
  
Quinn withdrew his fingers and had to kiss him then, leaning over him to do so. His hand slipped on the warm skin. "A-and you're sure that this is how you want to do this?" he asked, quietly. "Because if you'd rather have me, you know, for the first time we do this at least, I would be more than willing--"  
  
Anders pulled him down to him so fast he almost yelped, and the rest of the sentence was lost in a hard, hungry kiss. "I swear to the Maker, Quinn," Anders mumbled against his lips, "if you don't make love to me soon, I swear, I'll go _mad_."  
  
"W-well, we can't have that."  
  
They shared an unsteady smile, and the trust shining in Anders's eyes made Quinn swallow. He wanted to tell him so many things - how lucky he felt, how nervous he was, and at the same time how certain, and just how much he loved him, but the combination was too bewildering for words. He kissed Anders's shoulder tenderly, hoping he could show at least a portion of what he couldn't tell.   
  
Quinn had to bite his lip and concentrate as he gripped his own erection, and pressed the head into the rough heat. He was almost shocked at how much the ring of muscle gave, or perhaps it was the slickness. Before he quite knew it, he had pushed halfway inside Anders - _inside Anders_ \- and clung to his hip in wonder. Anders gasped, and mumbled an exultant "yes," and then he was silent, mouth open, eyes tightly closed. They breathed together, joined by heat, joined by feeling.  
  
"More," Anders moaned at length, "oh, please - _deeper--_ "

Obeying a little too eagerly, Quinn pushed in until he was flush to Anders's back, and an incredulous noise escaped him. He could feel Anders tensing around him, could feel his heart beating impatiently. A drop of sweat rolled down his own back, and he shivered at the feeling, but kept himself in check. _Slow does it_ , he reminded himself, _slow does it._  
  
"Is this - Are you all right?" he asked in a low voice, kissing Anders's skin, tasting salt.  
  
Anders turned to kiss him, and the slight movement made them gasp into each other's mouths. Quinn let his hand slide up from Anders's hip to his stomach and his chest, marvelling at his warmth and closeness. Finally, he took hold of Anders's side, and thrust into him, following instinct and Anders's greedy little grunts. It took a few tries before they found a rhythm that agreed with them both, and Anders had been right; Quinn knew the moment they found it that it was the right one, from the way Anders tensed around him, from the way he moaned into the back of his hand.   
  
Anders bit down on his knuckles when Quinn dared to pick up the pace, little cries escaping each time he thrust in. Quinn wrapped his arm tightly around him, and they moved together. It was clumsy but _perfect_ ; there was no other word for the slow intensity that took over them both. The deepening thrusts inside the welcoming heat of his lover brought him closer and closer to a feeling so strong it frightened him.   
  
He paused to gather himself, and Anders writhed for more. Anders's hand was still clenched around his cock, but now he was stroking it with a shaky grip. Quinn covered his fingers with his own. He had to search for his voice for a moment. "Let me?" he suggested in whisper, and Anders turned to give him a heated look, nodding, mouthing _please_. Quinn kissed his cheek, and his oil-slick palm moved smoothly down the taut length.  
  
It was difficult to bury himself very deep, with one hand busy and the other leant against the bed to hold him up, but even shallow thrusts kept Anders noisy, and Quinn could feel his heartbeat turn rapid, everything in him preparing for the great contradiction, tensing for the release. In the end, he concentrated more on the movements of his hand, tugging the way he would do to himself when he was chasing a climax that lurked just around the corner.  
  
Anders flushed red, and reached back blindly to clutch at Quinn, at his arm, at his side. His eager noises turned into one long moan, and his back bowed, and then he was coming, splattering his seed over his stomach and chest. His hips jerked a second time, and a third, before he seemed to start relaxing. Quinn almost forgot his own burning need as he watched Anders find release. He was a beautiful sight, so given over to pleasure, utterly unguarded, come slowly dripping down his chest. Quinn had to quell his urge to pin him down and lick his flushed skin clean. He nuzzled the nape of Anders's neck instead.  
  
He felt the way Anders twitched against his hand, probably so tender he ached after such an intense orgasm, and moved his hand to his hip instead, stroking the skin gently. Anders rolled his hips back, and Quinn shuddered, desire flaring inside him.  
  
"Want to try a different position?" Anders asked, voice rough. He flashed Quinn a sated, warm smile. "I'd like to watch you when you come." His knuckle touched Quinn's face. "And kiss you more easily."  
  
Watch him? Well, it was only fair, wasn't it? Quinn bit his lip and nodded, not trusting his voice, and pulled out, carefully. Anders rolled over onto his back, snatching a pillow and wriggling it under his lower back. He gathered Quinn close, winding his limbs around him, all languid heat and easy movement. It was intense to face him so completely, and Quinn almost panicked and wanted to hide, but then Anders's hand guided him inside, and Quinn sank into the oneness, Anders's thighs squeezing him. The hair on them rubbed against his skin in a most delicious way when he started to move again.

Anders's hands slid down, from his shoulders to his ribs. It was unlike any touch Quinn had felt before, seeming to reach under his skin and tickle from the inside, if that was possible. Of course; Anders had to be using some kind of magic he had never heard of, nothing else tingled so.  
  
"Kiss me," Anders whispered, and although it meant changing the angle of his thrusts, Quinn was more than happy to comply.  
  
His attention was mostly elsewhere, however. With the slippery heat around his cock, it seemed impossible not to try to rock deeper into Anders. And as he thrust in clumsily, trying to find a rhythm again but finding it more and more difficult to control the movements of his hips, Anders's fingers slid liquid fire down his spine, bursts of teasing magic that entered his bloodstream and travelled to his extremities.  
  
It had built inside him a long time, burning low, gathering momentum, but finally his orgasm rushed into his senses. Quinn was powerless to hold it back any longer, and he pushed his face into the nook of Anders's neck as he buried himself as deep inside him as he could. His muscles twitched as the tension crested and slowly bled away. Time lost its meaning for a while, and Quinn pressed his lips to Anders's pulse point, comforted by his closeness.  
  
Eventually he became aware of a hand stroking his back. No magic, just a warm palm skimming over the skin, inviting him back to the waking world. Anders called his name, quietly. When Quinn looked up and made an incoherent noise, he kissed his forehead.   
  
Quinn heard the smile in his voice. "Still awake?"  
  
They rolled over onto their sides, facing each other, and Quinn found he was very much awake, although his ears rang and his limbs felt heavy and useless for anything but holding Anders close. They were both smeared with safflower oil and sweat and each other's come, and lying on oil-spattered sheets, but as fastidious as Quinn usually was about cleanliness, he didn't particularly care when Anders was right there next to him and his body hummed with satisfaction.  
  
"I'm here," he said, and couldn't raise his voice, so happy he was. He leaned in to kiss Anders, and it was a languid, tender meeting of lips with just a hint of tongue, ending only so they could smile and gaze into each other's eyes, which was only proper, Quinn considered, for this kind of occasion.  
  
"Maker, I think you're a natural," Anders said, bending one arm and pillowing his head on it. He ran a finger playfully down Quinn's chest. "It could be because you're so patient. But that was almost too good to be your first time."  
  
Quinn fidgeted a little, unsure what to say in reply. "Thank you, well, I had you to show me how to please you, didn't I? A mutual effort, I'd say. Mind you, I am curious about how that feels, being on the - on the receiving end of it."  
  
Anders laughed, and rolled over onto his back. "Bloody good, that's the short reply. Oh, Quinn. My mind's mush; don't expect me to write you a sonnet about it right now."   
  
"Does that mean I will get a sonnet later?" Quinn asked, half-serious, because he was certainly in the mood for poetry.  
  
"I thought you were the literate one." Anders stretched out his legs and scratched at his stomach. He made a pleased noise, as content as a cat with cream.  
  
It was amazing how _easy_ everything seemed now, how relaxed and comfortable. Quinn almost wished he was still a cat, just so he could purr. His hand sought out Anders's, and their fingers tangled, and all was right with the world.  
  
Once he judged his head was clear enough, he made himself sit up, however. Nothing short of a bath would clean them up completely, but some water and a cloth would help, surely. He fetched the washbowl, and placed it on the night stand. A touch of magic made the water suitably warm. Then he realised he had forgotten towels, and wasn't there a bar of soap somewhere? Oh, there it was, dropped under the table. Anders looked amused at seeing Quinn wander around the room naked as the day he was born, but accepted the washcloth with gratitude, and for a while, they concentrated on tidying up.

This, Quinn thought, was something he could get used to doing every day. Not just the sex, although that _certainly_ needed to happen again; he loved being so comfortable with Anders, sharing towels and honeycakes and, and anything Anders wanted, really.  
  
Anything at all, he realised, and promptly dropped the towel, hands suddenly clumsy.  
  
By the time Quinn had wiped himself more or less clean, he became aware that Anders's gaze lingered on him, and paused, eyeing him.  
  
"Hm? Something on my face?"  
  
Anders shook his head and glanced down, and then he smiled, just a little. "Nothing. You're sweet on the eyes, that's all." He found the cord under a fold of the sheets, and pulled his hair back from his face, throwing Quinn another lingering look.   
  
Quinn was terrible at being complimented, and promptly blushed. "Oh. I... Oh. Thank you." He took a deep breath, and exhaled, reaching out to gather his clothes. "Are you... Is it going to be a busy day at the clinic today, do you think?"  
  
This time, the glance he received was quizzical. "You never know what happens in Darktown. But it shouldn't be too bad."  
  
Quinn pulled his tunic on, and put all his hopes in the next words bubbling out of his mouth. "Well, if it isn't terribly busy, do you think you could come see me tonight? I realise you've said before that the evenings are the busiest time, but if you can find the time, well, I would love to have you over for supper, and, and afterwards, if you follow me."  
  
Anders moved closer, still enticingly naked, and cupping the side of his face, kissed him in a way that couldn't have meant anything but yes.  
  
Well, come to think of it, Quinn now knew several things it could mean in addition to yes. He smiled into the kiss, and rested his hand on Anders's thigh, in no hurry to withdraw.  
  
"Not to insult Bodahn's cooking," Anders murmured between kisses, "but I'm looking forward to the afterwards." He gently nudged Quinn's chin up, so their eyes met. "I confess I didn't come here just for breakfast, either."  
  
"I hope you came here for several breakfasts, actually," Quinn found himself saying, still smiling because he was happy, and because Anders's finger curled like he had been about to scratch him under the chin. Maybe there were indeed some traces of cat left; the memory evidently lingered.  
  
Anders took a moment to reply, eyes narrowing in thought. "You know," he said quietly, sliding his fingertips down and along the collar of Quinn's tunic, "I didn't dare to dream that far."  
  
Quinn ran his fingers up Anders's back, finding the cross scar he still hadn't asked about. No matter. There would be time later, much more time, for questions and learning. "Well, you're more than welcome to all the breakfasts you want to share with me, and the nights before, and the days after."  
  
Anders gasped, staring at him with wondering eyes. "Do you mean it?"  
  
Quinn tilted his head to the side. "Yes. If you want some time to think about it, I perfectly underst--"  
  
The rest of the sentence was fervently kissed away, Anders's hands grasping at his tunic.  
  
"That's a big promise," he mumbled, and his heart was beating wildly, Quinn could feel it against the palm of his hand as he brushed his hand down Anders's chest, mapping him for later reference.  
  
"All at once, yes, I suppose it is." He kissed Anders's chin, because he felt like kissing him all over, and it was as good a place as any to start. "We'll just take it one breakfast at a time, then?"  
  
Anders's eyes were wonderful, he thought; full of stirring hope and tenderness. "All right," he said, and his throat worked, "one breakfast at a time."  
  
They sealed the promise with a kiss far sweeter than any honeycake. Quinn felt something inside him settle, a missing piece sliding into place, and knew his heart was home.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on the Dragon Age Kinkmeme.


End file.
